Betrayal
by Arikae
Summary: Athos reacts badly to d'Artagnan knowing Milady De Winter. The consequences were beyond any of them could ever imagine. It's up to the Athos, Aramis and Porthos to fix what they've broken.
1. Chapter 1

**This story takes place after episode 9. This is my first Musketeer story and it is very rough. It was an idea that came to mind after watch episode 10 and I had to get it out on paper. Hope you enjoy the story.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: Un-betaed. I apologise in advance for the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. **

The Three Musketeers sat upon their steeds at the borders of Gascony. Aramis and Porthos looked at the third musketeer between them. Athos has never seen the place where D'Artagnan grew and he never thought he would. The young man he had come to admire had found a home in the City of Paris, or so he had thought. Returning to Gascony had never been a part of D'Artagnan's plan since joining the Musketeers. Not until he was so old he could no longer wield a sword. The three men knew how much it meant to D'Artagnan to be a part of the Musketeers. He was never meant to leave, but circumstances changed. A mistake was made. A mistake the three men may have to live with for the rest of their lives unless they can find D'Artagnan and bring him home.

"Do you think he'll still be here?" Porthos asked.

"Where else would he go? This is his home." Athos answered.

"This was his home. Paris is his home. Now let's go bring our brother home." Aramis looked over at Athos. "I hope you have a convincing argument, because he hates us."

Athos nodded, thinking back to the day this all began. "I know, I was there."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: Un-betaed. I apologise in advance for the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. **

**One month ago…**

The Musketeers were training. Athos and D'Artagnan were sparring while Aramis and Porthos called out warnings and making fun, trying to distract D'Artagnan from the fight. "Watch your feet, D'Artagnan." Athos warned as he tripped the boy over.

D'Artagnan got straight back up, sword ready and took a couple of good swipes at Athos before stepping back and taking the defensive. Aramis and Porthos looked at each other impressed. The boy was good. They knew that the day they met, but his training with Athos has improved his skills exponentially. Aramis leaned over, "If we don't watch out, he'll be giving us a few pointers."

"True as it may be, hell will freeze over before I admit that to him." Porthos whispered. Aramis laughed and took a swig of his rum. It was a good day until Milady De Winter walked through the gates of the garrison. Everyone in the garrison stopped what they were doing. D'Artagnan was surprised to see the woman. He understood why they others had stopped. She was a beautiful woman. What he didn't understand was why Athos looked ready to murder someone.

"Athos," The name melted as she spoke them, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

D'Artagnan looked between the two. They knew each other. Milady, the scar around her neck, the story Athos had told him. Suddenly a connection was made.

Milady turned to him, "Ah…D'Artagnan. My knight in shining armour. As much as I miss Athos, I've come to see you."

Suddenly Athos turned his murderous sights on him. "You know her!"

"Know me?" Milady asked, laughing, as she walked up to D'Artagnan and placed her hand on his chest and a finger under his chin. Her lips were only millimetres from his. "I'll say we know every part of each other very well, don't you?" She asked, seductively.

"Athos, care to introduce us?" Aramis asked, cautiously.

"Oh I think D'Artagnan is more suited to do that." Athos growled through his teeth.

D'Artagnan shook his head, stepping back from De Winter. "Athos, I didn't know. It happened before I even met you."

"You mean you never thought to mention me to your friends?" Milady asked, driving the wedge between the young man and his friends. She needed him in his plans. Needed him for her revenge.

D'Artagnan ignored her, "I didn't know she was your wife." He was begging his friend to believe him. Becoming a musketeer was his dream, he didn't want this to be the end of it. "Please believe me."

Athos shook his head, disgusted, "I told you about her. I trusted you."

"And I have done nothing or told anyone about it since then. It was something I would've taken to my grave." D'Artagnan implored. He wasn't ready for the sword that came at him.

"LIAR!" Athos swung his sword at him like a mad man. D'Artagnan dodged and parried, just as he had been taught by the man he was fighting.

Out of the corner of his eye, Athos could see Milady smiling and suddenly he lost control of his entire body. He turned his sword and ran straight at Milady.

Milady's eyes widened his horror and pure fear as Athos ran at her, his eyes reflected his madness. She thought this was the end as she back away as fast as she could.

Athos was smiling like a mad man when he saw the fear in the woman's eyes. Finally, he could have his revenge. "Athos! No!" It was D'Artagnan. He had shoved the woman aside and was standing in front of him. Athos saw him but knew he couldn't stop himself in time, he could only change the direction of his sword. He drove the sword into D'Artagnan's left arm.

"Athos!"

"D'Artagnan!"

Porthos pulled Athos and his sword away from D'Artagnan while Aramis went to D'Artagnan to check the wound. He, none too gently, pulled off D'Artagnan's jacket and tore open the sleeve of his shirt. "Didn't hit an artery. You'll be fine." Aramis stepped back and stood with the other two. The statement was obvious, they will stand by Athos. D'Artagnan understood, after all, the three have been friends for a long time. What he didn't understand is why nobody was willing to hear him out?

D'Artagnan held a hand over his arm, putting pressure on the wound. It was strange. It should've hurt but D'Artagnan couldn't feel it. He looked at the three men in front of him and then at the men around them. They were all looking at him with betrayal in their eyes and he knew then that his dream of being a musketeer had just ended. He looked up to balcony of Treville's office and saw the Captain standing there. The man just shook his head at him. This was it. This was the end. De Winter came up to him and took him by the arm. "Come, we can tend to your wound at my residence." D'Artagnan was too shocked at what was happening to object. He absently followed her out of the garrison. As he stepped outside of the gate, he turned around and saw two musketeers closing the gates. His three friends stood there. Athos, glaring at him with so much hatred in his eyes. Slam!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: Un-betaed. I apologise in advance for the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. **

**Two days later…**

Milady walked into her room and stood their admiring the young man standing on her balcony. He was wearing a loose shirt and brown leggings. He was definitely an attractive young man and if she wasn't so bent on revenge, she could see herself with this man. So much like her Athos. Too bad he was expendable. "You can't spend all your days moping in my room."

He turned to her and smiled, "Isn't that why you brought me here?"

"I brought you here to heal, but you look fine now, so it's time to pull yourself together." Milady walked up to him and put her arms around his neck. "I have a proposition for you."

"Oh really? I can't imagine I would like it."

She shrugged, "Listen, and if you don't like it, you can leave." She waited for him to say something and when he didn't she continued, "The Red Guards need someone like you to lead them."

D'Artagnan shook his head and removed the woman's arms from his neck. "I will never work for the Cardinal."

"Why not? He serves the King."

"He serves the King when it serves himself." Not to mention he tried to have the Queen killed, he thought to himself. If only…Suddenly an idea came to mind.

"He serves his country which is what you wanted to do when you joined the Musketeers, is it not?"

"The Musketeers are different. They have honour. The Red Guards don't. They abuse their position. They're a bunch of bullies at best." D'Artagnan spat as he walked around her to sit on the bed. Milady turned around and walked up to him, seductively putting her hands on his shoulder as she straddled his lap. D'Artagnan smiled and leaned back, allowing her to work her magic.

"There's no reason that can't change with you leading them." Milady kissed him on the lips.

"And why would the Cardinal trust me?" He asked between kisses.

"Because he trusts me." She whispered, trailing kisses up his neck.

D'Artagnan sighed, and drew away, pushing her off him, "I don't trust him."

"Oh darling," Milady laid on her side, across the bed, her hand keeping her head up. "Everything the Cardinal does is for the good of the country. He's just willing to get his hands dirty to do it. He always has the best of intentions."

D'Artagnan dropped back onto the bed and turned to mirror Milady's position. "I don't like getting my hands dirty and I definitely don't like blood on my hands."

Milady sighed, "Will you at least see him and hear what he has to say? He may change your mind. He is a very convincing man, the Cardinal."

D'Artagnan looked at the beautiful face of a murderer and nodded, moving closer to her and kissing her lips. "Only because you asked so nicely."

Milady smiled. "Good boy." Then rolled him over onto his back and tore open his shirt, kissing him down the chest. D'Artagnan closed his eyes. He had a plan. This was for Athos, Aramis and Porthos. This was for France and its King.

D'Artagnan walked around the streets of Paris, a drink in hand. "How did everything go so wrong in such a short time?" In the room with Milady, he had thought he could use this situation to his advantage, to gain hers and the Cardinal's trust, but he was alone. What could he do alone? He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't even notice the person following him in the shadows until it was too late. A shiny dagger was at his throat before he even noticed the person. "You should be careful, a man ousted by the Musketeers tend to have a lot of enemies." The voice was soft and deadly and female.

"What do you want?" D'Artagnan asked, swallowing as the dagger lingered dangerously close to his throat.

"I'm here with a mission from the Queen." That took D'Artagnan by surprise as the dagger came away and he turned to find the Queen's young maiden wearing a cloak with a hood. She was beautiful, dark skin, dark hair, but pale grey eyes. She smiled, "The Queen has heard of the…altercation at the garrison and would like your assistance."

D'Artagnan smiled, he could see a way out of his predicament now. He bowed, "I am at Her Majesty's disposal."

**Four nights later…**

He hasn't been able to send any news to the Queen as it was hard to gain access to the Cardinal's office. The previous night the Queen and the King and asked for the Cardinal's presence at supper. One where the Cardinal had graciously agreed to. D'Artagnan knew it was the Queen's doing to allow him the opportunity to sneak into the Cardinal's office. It was easy enough to get into the room but searching for any sort of evidence proved much harder. It was half an hour when he started getting frustrated. He swung his hand, striking a candelabra, shocking himself and moved to catch it when it didn't fall but turned, with it one of the stones in the wall next to it turned as well. D'Artagnan frowned and peered into the hole in the wall. There was a box. He reached in and pulled it out, setting it on the table to open it. He pulled out a pendant. It was clearly valuable but not useful. He set it aside and pulled out a letter. It was a letter from the late King, leaving him with the task of guiding King Louie during his reign. Again, useless. The last piece of paper was another letter. D'Artagnan smiled as he read it. Finally, he found what he needed. As quickly as possible, D'Artagnan put everything back into place and climbed out the window into the night. He made his way out of the Cardinal's grounds. He needed to hide the parchment in a place no one could find. With the parchment placed inside a loose brick in the wall of a dark alley, he returned to his Milady's room. This was almost over.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: Un-betaed. I apologise in advance for the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. **

The next morning D'Artagnan woke up with Milady next to him, running her fingers up and down his chest. He yawned and stretched, "I didn't hear you come in last night." He asked her as he got up and sat on side of the bed, grabbing his shirt from the chair next to him.

"You were dead to the world. What were you doing, robbing someone?"

D'Artagnan paused for a moment before answering. "Just out drinking…alone. Someone was too busy for me." He said, looking dejected.

Milady's hands slid over his shoulders and down under his shirt, "I would love to make it up to you, but the Cardinal wants to see me tonight. He is meeting someone of importance just North of the city gates tonight."

"Interesting place for a meeting." D'Artagnan feigned disinterest, turning his head and taking the woman's mouth in his. "Surely it can wait."

Milady smiled and pulled back. "Nobody keeps the Cardinal waiting. He's expecting trouble. He'll have a dozen Red Guards with him. The man he is meeting isn't the most kind hearted."

He pouted as she got off the bed and got ready for her meeting with the Cardinal. He was planning to meet the Musketeers tonight to tell them everything and give them the parchment but this meeting may be another piece of evidence. Could he be meeting the assassin in the parchment? He needed to find out, but he couldn't do it alone. Not if Milady considers the man dangerous, and not when the Cardinal will have a dozen men with him. He needed the Musketeers. He needed to send a message but they didn't trust D'Artagnan right now. They won't believe him but they will believe the Queen.

Mira entered the pub D'Artagnan said his friends frequented. It has been a while since she had stepped foot in a place like this. She spotted Athos, Aramis and Porthos in the corner table in the back. She grabbed a bottle of wine from the bar and headed over.

Aramis, Athos and Porthos frowned but smiled when a bottle of wine and slammed onto the centre of their table. "Courtesy of the Queen and D'Artagnan." Their smiles faded at the mention of D'Artagnan and a little surprise that the name was accompanied by the Queen. "There is a meeting on the outskirts of Paris, just beyond the North gates. The Cardinal is meeting a dangerous man. Be there and stop them, by order of the Queen."

Aramis eyed the woman from head to toe, "And how do we know this isn't a trap. I don't believe I've seen you amongst the Queen's maids."

"This is information D'Artagnan has been risking his life for. Believe it or not. It is your choice. As for who I am, you have no need to know and I answer to the Queen alone." With that she left them to ponder her words.

"It's a trap." Athos said straight away.

"And if it isn't?" Aramis asked.

Athos shrugged, "Who cares? He's a traitor."

"Only if it's a trap. If it's not and we're not there to back him up, he's dead." 

"He sent a woman to give the message. Clearly he cannot face us because this is a trap!" Athos argued.

"Are you willing to risk his life because traitor or not, he was our friend and we owe him to at least show up. If it's a trap, then we know once and for all if he is a friend or an enemy. Anyway, you heard the lady, it's the Queen's orders." Aramis was always the calm one. He turned towards the door, "I'm going. You make your own choice, Athos."

"You know he's right." Porthos said before following Aramis out the door. Athos stared at the men leaving for a minute before cursing and following.

**Milady's residence…**

D'Artagnan armed himself, ready for the confrontation that is to follow. He was sure the Cardinal will be incriminating himself this night. He opened the door to find himself face to face with Milady and four Red Guards. "What's going on?" He asked her, smiling, though he had a bad feeling in his gut. "I thought you had a meeting with the Cardinal tonight?

"Actually, so do you." Milady said, dangerously. Straight away, D'Artagnan knew he was in trouble, but before he could make a move, the Red Guards had him pinned to the floor, restraining his arms behind his back. He struggled and managed to kick a few of them in the shins, hearing a satisfying "oomph" from a couple of them, but he had no chance. "Get him up." She ran her nail up his neck to his chin, "You will regret defying me."

"And you will die a painful death." D'Artagnan spat at her.

Milady wiped away the spit, then slapped him hard across the cheek. "You will tell me where the letter is and then you will die."

D'Artagnan smiled, "I will die first."

Milady shrugged, "If that's what you wish, but not before your friends." She laughed when D'Artagnan glared at her, "Yes, it was a trap. The Cardinal knew what you were up to as soon as he found the letter missing." D'Artagnan struggled to get out of the guards' hold and kill the woman in front of her. "And you know the best thing of all. They will die believing you betrayed them." She watched the fight leave D'Artagnan's eyes before nodding for the guards to take him to the dungeons.

**Three hours later…**

Aramis, Porthos and Athos stood at the outskirts of Paris with their swords in hand, blood dripping off the tip and ten dead hired men surrounding them. "It was a trap." Athos wiped his sword on one of the bodies.

"It's official." Porthos nodded at him, a deadly look in his eyes.

"D'Artagnan's betrayed us." Aramis finished.

They started walking back to the city, their hearts were heavy. D'Artagnan was a friend and now he is the enemy.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: Un-betaed. I apologise in advance for the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. **

**The Palace…**

It was time for the Queen to launch her side of the plan. She deliberately dressed overly extravagant this night. The Queen and the King were having their dinner. King Louie could take his eyes off his beautiful Queen. She was radiant, she is always radiant, but tonight was different. The Queen smiled at him shyly, knowing full well what that smile did to her King. "My Queen, you are extravagant."

Her smile grew, "You have said that already, My Lord."

He smiled awkwardly, "I know…it's just that…you really are so beautiful."

"My Lord, you are embarrassing me." The Queen wiped at her lips.

"You know, I would do anything for you."

"Anything, My Lord?"

"Anything, My Queen." She smiled at him and began talking to him about her yearning for a little adventure.

**The Bastille…**

D'Artagnan was shocked awake by a splash of water in his face. He groaned when he saw he was still hanging by the chains around his wrist in the middle of the cell. His feet could barely reach the floor. They had brought him here straight from Milady's house. He had been hanging here for three hours. They wasted no time in trying to extract the information they needed from him.

Milady sat on a chair against the wall, in front of D'Artagnan, looking very bored. The Cardinal was looking livid, which gave D'Artagnan a little satisfaction. The whipping and the burning had done nothing to loosen the man's tongue. "You will tell me where the letter is or this will only get worse."

D'Artagnan laughed, "Please, this is child's play." He knew he was only asking for more pain, but it was better than listening to this man's voice. He needed to get out of here and get the parchment, then he could go home. D'Artagnan was regretting he didn't leave a clue to the whereabouts of the evidence.

Milady stood up and walked up to him with a dagger in hand. She pressed her body against his half-naked one, running her hands up and down his battered chest, then scraping her nail up his torn back, forcing his to press against her to get away from the pain. "Get away from me."

Milady pouted, "That's not what you've been saying the past week, in my bed, when you're inside of me." She knew reminding him of those nights would be humiliating him. "Can you still feel it?"

D'Artagnan laughed in her face, "You weren't that memorable." He knew what to say to hurt her pride. Her expression turned deadly. D'Artagnan kept a stoic face, clenching his jaw as she ran the tip of the dagger up his chest, cutting the skin deeply. She smiled as she walked around him, doing the same to his arms, abdomen, back and legs. She continued until he could no longer stay silent. The scream sent shivers through the souls of all the prisoners in the Bastille.

**The Queen's quarters…**

The Queen's maiden entered the room, calmly but as soon as the door closed the Queen rushed up to her. "Any news from D'Artagnan?"

Mira shook her head, "No, My Lady, he was not at our usual meeting place and what is worse, I have heard from some of the guards that ten bodies have been found North of the gates."

"North…that is where…" The Queen put a hand to her mouth, "D'Artagnan is in trouble."

Mira nodded, "But there is hope." The Queen looked at her confused, "There were ten bodies, My Lady. D'Artagnan had asked for only his three friends, if this was a trap, then there will only have been three bodies. There are ten."

The Queen smiled, "Aramis and the others are alive."

"That's right, but we need to find D'Artagnan. He has the evidence."

"We must tell Aramis. They can save him."

Mira shook her head, "If we tell them, they will storm the Bastille and D'Artagnan will surely be dead. We must trust D'Artagnan to get out on his own."

"But…"

"I will keep my eyes out." She smiled lewdly, "I have friend within the Red Guards. As soon as I hear of D'Artagnan's whereabouts we will tell the Musketeers."

The Queen looked at her maiden with concern but nodded. She entrusted D'Artagnan to do this, she must allow him to finish it. If she makes any move, the Cardinal will turn his sights on her and that would be bad for all of France.

**Milady's Residence**

Athos slammed his fist against Milady's door. It opened revealing a shocked Milady. "You…" Athos pushed his way in and shoving her aside.

"Not dead. Disappointed?"

Milady got over her shock and smiled, "Pleased, actually. I told the Cardinal, ten men wasn't enough to bury you."

"Good for you, you won a bet." Athos looked around the room, "Where is he?"

"Who?" Milady asked innocently, "You know we're not married any more. You don't have a say in who I bed."

Athos grabbed her by the throat and shoved her against the wall, "D'ARTAGNAN! Where is he?"

Milady struggled against the hand until she could no longer. Finally he let her go. She coughed, struggling to get her breath before she spoke. "He's celebrating your death with the Cardinal. Don't wait up for him."

Athos glared at her. "You tell him, the next time I see him, he's dead." Athos stormed out with the threat. He wouldn't kill her now, not until he found the D'Artagnan, then he'll bury them together!


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: Un-betaed. I apologise in advance for the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. **

**The Bastille…**

D'Artagnan woke up, bleeding and weak. He looked around and saw that they had left him alone, but chained. Gathering his strength he looked around for any way to escape. He looked up at the ceiling. It was a low ceiling. He then looked at his wrists. "This is going to hurt." He told himself. He took the chains in his hands and pulled himself up and upside down, planting his feet firmly against the ceiling. He tucked his thumbs in and pushed against the ceiling with all his strength. He muffled his scream when he felt his shoulder pop. It was dislocated. He could feel his hand slipping out of the cuffs, helped by the blood and then he dropped.

D'Artagnan laid on the ground, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath and bring the pain under control. When he finally gathered enough strength, he laid is dislocated shoulder against the floor and clenched his teeth as he popped it back into place. Finally, he stood and examined the room, trying to find a way out when he heard footsteps. Quickly, he stood behind the door and waited. "What the heck?" D'Artagnan heard the curse and smiled when he heard the rattling of keys. The metal door swung open and D'Artagnan snuck up and wrapped his arm around the man's neck, choking him. D'Artagnan ignored the pain until he felt the man's struggles die, then let him go. "Why do they always fall for that one?" D'Artagnan dropped to his knees and started undressing the man.

D'Artagnan snuck his way out of the Cardinal's grounds, bleeding and in pain. His mind was too foggy to realise his escape was too easy. But the heavens were shining upon, at least for now because his escapte hadn't gone unnoticed by an ally either.

Mira quickly sent word with a trusted maid and followed D'Artagnan, knowing by the way he moved that he was in trouble.

The Queen received the message from Mira and quickly grabbed a bag from under her bed before heading to the King. She entered the King's study knowing he was alone and smiled at him as she closed the door behind him. "I have received word that the Cardinal may be heading out with a dozen of his guards." She grinned at him, cheekily. "Are you ready for an adventure, My Lord?" She pulled out two Red Guard uniforms. The King was unsure, but the look on his Queen's face made it impossible for him to refuse.

"I am at your disposal, My Queen." The King bowed before giggling with excitement.

**Streets of Paris…**

D'Artagnan arrived at the alley where he had hidden the parchment. His vision was blurring as he stumble along the wall to the loose brick, leaving a trail of blood as he did. D'Artagnan fumbled at the brick but he could get it out. He was getting frustrated when a hand grabbed his wrist. He turned, his hand going straight for the person's throat when she grabbed his other wrist and smiled at him. "Let me help."

"Mira." He sighed his relief. "Anyone tell you you're beautiful?" D'Artagnan closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.

Mira grinned and pulled out the brick. She reached in and felt around, sighing in relief when she pulled out the parchment. She studied her friend, who still had his eyes closed. She was about to say something when she saw four Red Guards coming towards them, "D'Artagnan, you are under arrest by order of the Cardinal for treason." The guard announced.

Mira placed the parchment in D'Artagnan's hands. "Go, I'll hold them off." D'Artagnan shook his head in protest, but Mira just smiled at him confidently, "If they were Musketeers, I would be worried, but Red Guards, I can handle." D'Artagnan grinned, "Go to the garrison!" She ordered before leaving him to take on the guards.

D'Artagnan ran as fast as he could towards the garrison, parchment in hand. The adrenaline of finally seeing this mission over was spurring him on. He stumbled into the main street and looked to the end. The Garrison was at the end of the street. He would make it.

Mira easily took out three of the guards, deliberately allowing the fourth one go, knowing he will report back to the Cardinal. If the Queen was right, he would be leading a dozen Red Guards to the garrison to arrest D'Artagnan. "You should have sent more men, Cardinal." Mira whispered to herself, "When will you learn? Never underestimate the King's Musketeers."

**Palace Grounds…**

The Queen and the King were disguised as Red Guards, waiting behind a bush for the Cardinal to appear. He did. The Queen giggled excitedly, "Are you ready? As soon as the last guard pass us, we will join at the end of the line."

"This is sounding a little dangerous." The King whispered.

The Queen waived away the concern. "I have it on good authority that he is visiting the Musketeer garrison for a monthly competition they have. It's perfectly safe." The King started getting excited, he loved the battles between the Red Guards and the Musketeers. The Queen knew she had the King where she need him. The guards passed them and as if nothing was amiss, they joined in line.

**Main Street of Paris…**

As D'Artagnan got closer to the entrance, four Red Guards appeared, quickly he jumped into a small alley and out of sight. He waited for the guards to pass him. He knew his strength would not last much longer. He was leaving a trail of blood all over Paris's market place. The Guards passed him, finally, but he waited for them to turn off the main street before he dared to continue. He groaned as he stood and stepped back out onto the street, continuing his way to the garrison and his friends.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: Un-betaed. I apologise in advance for the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. **

Athos, Aramis and Porthos were having lunch at one of the tables in the courtyard of the garrison when D'Artagnan stumbled through the gates. D'Artagan didn't get a chance to say a word when Porthos grabbed him by the Red Guard uniform and dragged him to the side, slamming him up against a wall. The shock of hitting the wall made him lose his grip on the parchment and he watched as it flew away and landed at the gate. "No!" He struggled against Porthos, trying to get to the parchment, but Porthos had a steel grip on him.

"You think you can try to kill us and then walk right in here?" Porthos screamed in his face, but D'Artagnan didn't hear him, he needed to get the parchment. Porthos punched him across the face, then threw him to the ground. He landed awkwardly, his arm bending under him. He felt the snap of a bone in his left arm and screamed, but even that didn't stop him from his goal. He crawled towards the parchment, but someone grabbed his ankle and flipped him onto his back. It was Athos.

"Please…" D'Artagnan begged as he looked back at the parchment, his hands reaching out for it.

Athos jerked him harshly by the shirt, "I never thought I could hate someone more than Milady, but congratulations, you've managed to take her place at the top of my list."

"Athos," D'Artagnan could feel himself losing consciousness, "I need to get…"

"Need to get what, D'Artagnan?" Athos seethed, ready to bring his fist back when a voice stopped him.

"I believe he needs to get this." The Cardinal was holding the parchment in his hand. Athos let D'Artagnan go and stood. Treville stood on the balcony where he had been standing since D'Artagnan walked in. He didn't interfere. D'Artagnan was a traitor after all, but now that the Cardinal arrived, he had to speak up.

"Cardinal, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

D'Artagnan turned onto his front and watched in horror as the Cardinal picked up the parchment. "NO!" He screamed and got up to get it but was kicked back by a Red Guard. He groaned in pain as he realised everything he had done was for naught. He failed.

"I'm here for him." The Cardinal pointed at D'Artagnan, "For treason."

"He's one of your men." Aramis, who had stayed out of the violence, but didn't stop it, pointed out.

"Yes, well, it turns out the only reason he joined was to steal plans and sell them to the Spanish. It seems he has deceived us both, Captain."

The musketeers finally took a good look at D'Artagnan. He was in bad shape, lying on the ground, writhing in pain. "What happened to him?"

"Nothing of your concern." The Cardinal told the Captain. "I take it you will not object to the arrest of this man."

Captain Treville looked at Athos, Porthos and Aramis. D'Artagnan lifted him head up and looked at them, wondering why no one was protesting. Did they really believe he would commit treason? "Take him." D'Artagnan started at Athos, not believing those words had come out of his mouth. "Take him." Athos said again, while looking into D'Artagnan's eyes, "He's not one of us." Just like that everything inside D'Artagnan died. He dropped his head to the ground. All the pain, all the lies, were for nothing.

At the back of the Red Guards, the Queen cried for the man on the floor. This was her fault. This was her plan. D'Artagnan was in trouble and there was nothing she could do because the proof was back in the Cardinal's hands. A tear rolled down her face as two guards roughly lifted D'Artagnan off the ground, ready to drag him back to the dungeon. She was about to give up hope when a piece of paper was slipped into her hand. She turned to see who it was. "Mira."

D'Artagnan lifted his head as he was dragged to the Cardinal facing the Musketeers. The Cardinal wanted the Musketeers see D'Artagnan's face. He wanted them to know that D'Artagnan's suffering was their doing. D'Artagnan's left arm protesting at the treatment but he refused to scream in front of the Cardinal again. The Cardinal smiled as he presented the parchment in front of D'Artagnan. A guard produced a fire piston. The Cardinal smiled as he lit the parchment before D'Artagnan's eyes.

"No!" The 'show' reignited D'Artagnan's anger as the parchment burned to nothing. "NNNNOOOO!" D'Artagnan screamed, struggling with everything he had against the arms restraining him. The broken bone moved further out of place, but he didn't feel it. As he watched the paper turn into ashes, his struggles died down as well. His hopes of ever returning to the Musketeers had just died with that piece of paper. "All for nothing." He dropped to his knees, his arms still held by two soldiers, doing more damage to the broken bone, but again, he barely felt it. He turned dead eyes onto Athos. "All for nothing." He repeated himself, a tear ran down his eye.

Athos looked at D'Artagnan, confused. "What's going on?" He asked himself as he watched all the fight fade in D'Artagnan's eyes.

"Take him away." The Cardinal ordered.

Athos was about to protest when a voice from the back of the Red Guards spoke up. "No, you will not!" Two Red Guards and a woman walked forward. One of the Red Guards knelt down and placed a hand on D'Artagnan's shoulder.

"It's not all for nothing." She pulled off her helmet and gave a nod of encouragement at the defeated man before standing again. "Release him." She ordered the men holding him. They did as they fell to their knees. Everyone in the Garrison dropped to their knees when the Queen revealed herself. Everyone, except the other Red Guard that had stepped forward. He too pulled off his helmet and revealed himself. The Cardinal looked up and was horrified to see the King, but he was smart enough not to show it.

"My Lord, I was hoping not to burden you with this. I found this man, stealing our plans for our ships." The Cardinal believed there was nothing incriminating him and hence spun his lies but he was wrong.

"Stop talking, Cardinal." The King ordered, "My Queen would like to speak."

The Cardinal stopped, "Yes, Your Majesty."

D'Artagnan sat defeated on the ground, holding his broken arm protectively against his chest. He stayed upright only by his will to see this through and nothing else. He had no more fight in him for anything else, he had nothing else to fight for. He didn't notice the three Musketeers looking at him. He didn't see the guilt in their eyes, the anguish at the pain they had caused their young friend.

The Queen opened the parchment in her hand. "I believe, Cardinal, that you were meant to burn this parchment, am I correct?" The Cardinal's head shot up and stared in horror at the parchment in the Queen's hand. "That's right, Cardinal. The parchment you burned was blank." She pointed to her maiden and gestured for her to rise. She did and walked over to D'Artagnan. She knelt down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but I was not sure you had the strength to get to the protection of your friends. I switched the parchments." She smiled sadly at him, but he just looked at her with hopelessness.

"It fortunate you did because I got here." D'Artagnan told her, his voice held no emotion.

Mira nodded, "I should have known your determination would see you through. I'm sorry."

D'Artagnan shook his head, looking at nothing and continuing as if not hearing her. "There was no protection…no friends." Another tear ran down his eyes. Mira wanted to cry as well. Her trickery had reveal more than she thought it would. She turned to the men D'Artagnan had held so dearly in his heart and saw their devastation at those words. She wanted to scold them for what they have done, but could see that she could punish them no more than they are punishing themselves. They looked away, and kept their heads down as they were still in the presence of their King and Queen.

"I'm sorry." Was all Mira could say. She looked up at her Queen and shook her head sadly.

The Queen turned back to the Cardinal, the aftermath of all of this will have to be dealt with in private. She turned to the King and handed the parchment to him. As the King read it, his hands shook with anger, "This is a contract between you and an assassin. The assassin's mission is to kill my Queen!" The Cardinal was shaking now. There was no where he could run. "Captain Treville!" He ordered. Treville answered who had descended the steps as soon as the King and Queen were revealed.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Arrest the Cardinal for treason and he will be executed tomorrow at noon. There is no need for a trial." The King announce.

"Please, Your Majesty, I was only…"

"I don't need to hear your excuses because nothing you say will excuse trying to kill my Queen." He took the Queen by the hand, shaking with anger at the turn of events "Shall we return home?"

She looked down at D'Artagnan who had not reacted to any of this, "Yes, but first, are you forgetting someone?"

The King looked down and saw D'Artagnan, "Oh of course. I believe France is indebted to you. You truly are worthy of your commission, D'Artagnan. No reward could possibly be enough for foiling the assassination of my Queen. However, you may name anything you wish."

D'Artagnan was quiet, he didn't want anything. There was nothing the King could give him to make this right. His friend's betrayed him. He wanted to ask the King if he could turn back time to the days before he met these men. He wanted to ask the King if he had to power to erase the pass, to erase his memories, but he was aware enough to not say what he thought. "Your Majesty's gratitude is enough." He said simply.

The King was about to protest when the Queen put a hand on his arm to stop him. D'Artagnan needed his rest, a reward could wait. "Come, it has been a very long couple of weeks for D'Artagnan. Allow him to rest then when he has recovered, I believe a special ceremony will be in order. For the moment, I am quite tired."

"Of course, My Queen." He turned to D'Artagnan, "Rest and I will summon you when you are well." The Queen smiled at her King, then turned to Mira, silently telling her to remain and explain everything to the Musketeers. The Red Guards stood and surrounded the King and Queen as they left the garrison. They were still in shock at what had just happened. No doubt, many of them were in fear for their lives as they were all directly under the Cardinal's command. The King stopped just outside the gates. "Captain Treville, I would feel more comfortable if you could spare a few men to escort myself and my Queen to the palace. Treville nodded and sent half a dozen Musketeers to lead the way to the palace. The Queen looked back and caught Aramis's eyes. Aramis could see the disappointment in her eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: Un-betaed. I apologise in advance for the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. **

As soon as they left, the entire garrison was busy. Treville ordered two men to take the Cardinal and lock him away, while others were ordered onto the patrol. The Garrison emptied out in no time leaving only Treville, Mira, Athos, Aramis, Porthos…and D'Artagnon. D'Artagnan did not move from his place. Mira stayed by him as she spoke. "My Queen had sort out D'Artagnan after hearing about your altercation over Milady De Winter. She saw an opportunity to take down the Cardinal. I approached D'Artagnan," She smiled at the man, who was looking at nothing, "He didn't hesitate." She looked back up at the men standing over her and D'Artagnan. "The meeting to the north was a trap. The Cardinal had found that D'Artagnan had stolen the parchment and set the trap."

Aramis and Porthos turned away. Aramis ran his hand through his hair in frustration. He had condemned his friend, called him a traitor and turned his back on him.

Porthos shook his head as he turned back and looked down at his friend. How could they have gotten it so wrong?

Treville watched as his men were torn apart by what they were being told, but out of all of them, he was most worried about how Athos would react to all this.

Athos stood as still as a statue. He could still hear D'Artagnan say the words, _there was no protection…no friends._ D'Artagnan had run here, believing he was safe within the walls of the garrison but his friends had only thrown him back into enemy hands. What could they possibly do to make up for such an act? There was no excuse, but he had to do something. He owed it to the boy to try to make this right. Athos stepped forward until he was in front of D'Artagnan and knelt down. Mira stood and stepped back, giving the men space to talk. "D'Artagnan." Athos called, cautiously reaching out a hand and placing it on the unresponsive man's shoulder. He noted how D'Artagnan's left arm was held against his chest. Broken. He didn't expect what happened next.

D'Artagnan looked up at him, his eyes were blank at first and then all of a sudden, there were madness in them, "GET AWAY FROM ME!" He shoved the man back and started shuffling backwards until he hit the front gate. "STAY AWAY FROM ME!" His eyes were almost burning with anger.

Athos slowly got back on his feet, though remained low, shocked at what he was seeing. They were all shocked at the reaction they got. They have never seen D'Artagnan like this before. Mira had tears running down her face. She didn't know her action would have such consequences. All but one of them were focused on D'Artagnan. Something else on the ground where D'Artagnan was before caught Aramis's eyes. He stared at the dark area on the ground.

Blood.

Blood soaked into the ground. "Athos." Aramis said cautiously, stepping forward, knowing any sudden movements may send D'Artagnan running. He slowly knelt down next to Athos and pointed to the ground in front of him. "Look." He said, but still keeping an eye on D'Artagnan.

Athos frowned at the red patch in the dirt. "What…" By now everyone's attention was on it. "Is that...?"

The Red Guard uniform, D'Artagnan was wearing, was dark so they did not notice the blood stains, but now that Aramis knew, he could easily see them all. On the sleeves, the front, his trousers, and Aramis had no doubt there were more. "He's losing a lot of blood. We need to get him to the infirmary, now."

"He won't let us near him." Porthos whispered desperately.

"He will let me." Mira said from behind them. "He trusts me."

Aramis looked up at her and nodded. "Just distract him. Get his attention off us. We'll only need a second or two." Aramis knew D'Artagnan was in no shape to fight them if they held him down, but they needed to get close enough to do it.

Mira nodded and slowly walked over to D'Artagnan who was hugging his arm to his chest. She knelt down next to him. "D'Artagnan?" D'Artagnan didn't acknowledge her, he refused to take his eyes off the four men, daring them to come near him. "D'Artagnan, it's over. You did it. You got the Cardinal, you saved France."

D'Artagnan continued glaring at the men, "They believe I'm a traitor." He frowned at them. "What did I do?" Athos hands came up to his eyes, rubbing them. They had betrayed their friend in every way. They let a woman get between them, they didn't let him tell his side of the story, they threw him out of the garrison, but worst of all they handed him over to the Cardinal. What could possibly make this right? "I would never betray my friends, my King or my country. I would never…" D'Artagnan's head fell back against the gate. He needed to get out of here. He reached back over his left shoulder and grabbed onto the grills of the gate, pulling himself up. It hurt, it hurt a lot but it would be worth it if he could get out of here.

Mira put a hand on his arm, not sure if she should be keeping him down or helping him up, "D'Artagnan…" She frowned as she looked at her hand. There was so much blood. She looked over at the others and showed them her hand.

"To hell with this!" Aramis stood and strode straight over to his friend, grabbing him by the shoulder and wrapping his arms around D'Artagnan's chest, holding him against his own.

"Ahhhh!" D'Artagnan screamed in pain as Athos jarred every injury on his body, "Let me go!" He struggled against the older man.

"D'Artagnan! You need to stop!" Aramis pleaded with him. "You're injured badly. Please stop!"

D'Artagnan did…but it wasn't because Aramis asked, it was because he didn't have the strength to fight him. He was too tired, too exhausted. His legs couldn't hold his weight anymore. Aramis grunted at the sudden weight and dropped to the ground, still holding D'Artagnan against him.

Athos knelt down in front of them. The hopelessness in D'Artagnan's eyes was killing him. "I'm sorry." It was pathetic, he knew it, but it was all he could offer.

D'Artagnan looked at him. "You're sorry?" He shook his head at him and then looked at Porthos. "I don't want your apologies. I don't need it. I just want all of you out of my life!" Athos winced at the hatred in his eyes. D'Artagnan scoffed, and looked around the garrison, "All of this is a lie!" He growled, "There's no honour here. You're so called 'All for one and one for all' is just a lie you tell yourselves every day!" He spat at them.

"It not a lie, D'Artagnan!" Athos took his head in his hands to force him to look into his eyes, "It was never a lie."

A tear rolled down D'Artagnan's cheek, but his expression was stoic, "I trusted you." He grilled out slowly, deliberately.

"I know." Athos said, sadly.

All the fight in D'Artagnan died. There was nothing left to fight for. They've already taken everything from him. There was nothing more they could take. They could do whatever they wanted with him. He had no strength left to fight them. "I won't make that mistake again." With those words, he lost his hold on consciousness.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: Un-betaed. I apologise in advance for the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. **

The silence in the garrison was deafening. No one moved, or breathed. It wasn't until Aramis remember why they were doing this that spurred him into action. He released his hold on the man and laid D'Artagnan on the ground. He pulled open the uniform fully, before ripping open the shirt underneath. What greeted them was horrifying. There was not a part of D'Artagnan's chest that wasn't marred by burns, cuts or bruises.

"They tortured him." Porthos breathed. It was just more guilt heaved on their shoulders. Then his expression turned icy. "Son of a bitch tortured him!" Porthos clenched his fist and was about to storm into the cells when he was stopped by a hand on his chest.

"Killing the Cardinal will not help D'Artagnan." Treville told him.

"No, but I'll feel a whole lot better." Porthos growled, about the push the Captain aside when Aramis called out to him.

"Porthos! There is no time for this! We need to get D'Artagnan to the infirmary!" Aramis ordered. Porthos looked down at the man with blood all over his chest. He nodded and knelt down, picking the boy up in his arms. Aramis supported D'Artagnan's head as they made their way up the steps. Mira followed closely behind them. She knew D'Artagnan was injured, but not to this extent. They laid him down on the table in the middle of the room. "Help me take his clothes off." Aramis ordered. "Captain, I need bandages, hot water and needles and thread!"

Treville turned to retrieve the items when he found himself facing a very distressed maiden. "Mira, please come help me." He turned her around and led her out the door. It was for her own as well as D'Artagnan's benefit that she left. He was sure D'Artagnan would not want her to see him naked and battered. He had already lost so much, the least his captain could do was preserve his dignity.

Athos cursed at what was revealed when all of D'Artagnan's clothes were removed. There were long, deliberate cuts down his chest, arms, lower legs and back, his back had over a dozen lashes, and his chest was just as bad. "How did he last this long?" Athos voice was barely above a whisper.

"The wonders of the human mind." Aramis said as he examined the cuts. "They're not deep, but deep enough for him to lose a substantial amount of blood."

"How about his arm?" Porthos asked. Aramis looked up at him, seeing the guilt there and gently lifted the man's broken arm. It was at a wrong angle.

Aramis sighed, "I'll have to set it." He looked back at Porthos, "Hold him down." Porthos nodded and placed his hands on D'Artagnan's bruised shoulders. He nodded for Athos to do the same with his legs. Athos leaned his weight on D'Artagnan's upper legs. Aramis took a deep breath before he pulled and twisted the arm until he felt the bone slip back into place. D'Artagnan screamed and bucked against the pain but remained unconscious. Aramis gently laid his arm back down on the table. "It'll heal." He told Porthos, simply.

Treville and Mira arrived back with the items Aramis had asked for. Mira was careful not to look at D'Artagnan's naked body. "I should be leaving now. Her Majesty will be wanting to know of D'Artagnan's condition. Please send word." She turned to leave, but hesitated. She turned back to them, "One night during our scheduled meetings I could see the weight of the mission on his shoulders. He almost believed he would not survive. He asked me to pass on a message if anything should happen to him. He wanted you all to know, you are his family and the garrison is his home. Home is where the heart and his heart will always lie here." Then more firmly, "Convince him it was not all a lie." With that she left the men to take care of their own.

"How?" Athos whispered, the guilt eating at his soul.

"One problem at a time. Let us take care of the easier one first." Aramis worked tirelessly throughout the night. He gently wiped away the dry blood with the hot water to get a clear look at all the injuries. He used the needle and thread to stitch up the cuts and deep lashes. He used alcohol on all the open wounds to stave away infection and he bandaged the broken arm and placed it in a sling. It was all he could do for the boy. He could mend the physical injuries but he could do nothing for the emotional ones. Treville returned to his office once all the injuries were attended to, leaving the three friends to take care of the fourth.

Once Athos was done he decided that D'Artagnan would be more comfortable on a cot rather than on the hard table. "I'll carry him." Porthos told them. "He's not heavy." Aramis knew what the man was doing. It was his way of doing something for D'Artagnan.

"Be careful." Athos cautioned when he noticed D'Artagnan's brow furrowing.

Porthos looked at him with a sad expression, "I'm not going to hurt him. I think I've done enough of that." They fell silent as Porthos gently laid his friend down in the corner cot, furthest away from the door to minimise any disturbances. Athos sat in a chair to D'Artagnan's right, while Aramis and Porthos sat on the cot on the left. They stayed and kept vigil over their friend. Aramis adjusted the sheet covering D'Artagnan's lower body. It was a warm night and the sheet was really only used for D'Artagnan's dignity more than anything else. "What are we going to do when he wakes up?" Porthos asked the question they were all worried about. "I mean, we all saw how he reacted to us. He hates us."

Aramis nodded, "We'll have to cross that bridge when it happens. I don't know how he'll react to us when he wakes up, but we can't let him move too much otherwise he will tear the stitches. I'll keep him sedated if that is what is required."

Athos looked down at the young man in the cot, "I'm sorry." Aramis looked across at the man. He knew this would be affecting Athos the most. "I did this."

"It wasn't just you, Athos."

Athos shook his head, without taking his eyes off D'Artagnan. "Did you see his eyes when we told the Cardinal he could take him? Did you see them when he burned the paper? All the fight in him was gone. Everything that made him the man he is, was gone in that instance. I did that to him."

"He's not all gone, Athos." Porthos told him, "You saw the fight he had. I admit it was fuelled by anger but at least there is an emotion there. We can still get him back."

"How?" Athos asked shaking his head, "We betrayed his trust. We broke his faith in the Musketeers. We broke his faith in us." He reached out and picked up D'Artagnan's hand in his. "There is nothing we can do to make this right again."

Aramis shook his head, "We owe it to him to try and make it right. We broke him, so it's up to us to fix him."

"We threw him to the wolves!" Athos seethed through his clenched teeth, his grip on D'Artagnan's hand tightened, "We wouldn't hand over the worse criminals over to the Cardinal, yet we were willing to hand D'Artagnan over!"

"We didn't know." Porthos said weakly.

"But we should've." Aramis said, he remembered back to the first day he met D'Artagnan, he was young and inexperienced, yet he was able to give Athos a run for his money. What he wouldn't do right now to see that boy again. But he knew, it's not possible because going through everything D'Artagnan has been through in the past week changes everyone. Even if D'Artagnan could forgive them, he still would not be the same because trusting someone unconditionally was rare, but for it to happen a second time was impossible.

Athos reached over and brushed aside D'Artagnan's hair. It was damp from the sweat coming off D'Artagnan. "He has a fever."

"Unavoidable considering his condition." Aramis rubbed his eyes. He's been working for hours on his friend, detaching himself from the fact that it was D'Artagnan on the cot. Aramis knew the injuries were not life threatening but that was not where the problem laid. There is a reason why there is a saying 'death by a thousand cuts'. The human mind was not made to handle so much pain over a long period of time.

Porthos stood up from the cot. "I'll go get some cold water to cool him down."

Athos eyed Aramis. "What aren't you telling us?"

Aramis closed his eyes, running his hands through this hair. "You saw how he reacted to us. It's not D'Artagnan."

"Considering the way we treated him, I couldn't say it was unwarranted."

Aramis shook his head, "Of course his anger is warranted, but it wasn't just anger. There was madness in his eyes. He was tortured for hours and when he escaped he came to the people he expected to protect him." Aramis recalled Mira's words, "His family. But he was greeted with treatment not even fit for the enemy."

"I already know this, Aramis." Athos didn't need to be reminded of what he had done to his friend.

"He was only just holding onto reality, Athos. He was teetering on the edge. We gave him the shove that sent him over." Aramis looked at him with so much anguish, "His family broke his mind."

"So we fix him." Athos said adamantly, "Isn't that what you said? We broke him so we fix him."

Aramis nodded, that is what he said, but it wasn't until he was finally able to sit down and take in all the injuries he had tended to that he could see the extent of the damage done. He knew the damage to D'Artagnan's soul was far worse than that of his body. Mira's words haunted him._ He wanted you all to know, you are his family and the garrison is his home. _There was so much faith in those words, faith that burned out with the parchment in the courtyard. He was going to tell Athos that, when he realised his friend was also on the edge. Out of all of them, Athos will be taking this the hardest. He had taken D'Artagnan under his wings, training him in survival and sword skills. D'Artagnan, in turn, saw him as a mentor, a man he respected as much as his own father. Their bond was strong but it was also very new. Aramis wasn't sure it would survive this test. "You're right," Aramis nodded, "We'll fix this." Because Athos needed to believe that this could be fixed.

Porthos returned with a bowl of water and a hand towel. Athos took it off him and placed it on the small table beside the cot. Aramis and Porthos watched in silence as Athos focus his full attention on keeping D'Artagnan's fever at bay. Porthos turned to Aramis, "You should take one of the other cots. You're exhausted." Aramis buried his face in his hands, frustration at the situation was driving him mad. Porthos put a hand on his shoulder and gave a squeeze. Aramis looked up at him, then nodded at his suggestion. Porthos was right. He needed sleep.

Porthos watched as Athos gently wiped D'Artagnan's brow, cheeks and neck with the cool cloth. He merged the towel in the water and laid it across his brow. "I spoke to the Captain when I went to get the water." Porthos told him, "He's sent out men to search for Milady. There are wanted posters all over the city with her face. If she's in Paris, she can't hide, but if she's gone, well then, good riddance to her."

Athos drew his gaze from D'Artagnan for a moment. He had forgotten about Milady. He should be livid at the mention of her name but no feelings of anger even registered. He should've blamed her for all of this. It all started with her, but he knew she wasn't to blame. If he hadn't let his anger at her blind him, if he had had more faith in D'Artagnan, she would not have been able to drive a wedge between them. Yes, he _wanted_ her dead, but he _needed_ D'Artagnan's forgiveness. "D'Artagnan needs us. The Musketeers and the Red Guards can deal with her. I have no desire to go after that woman."

Porthos smiled in relief. He didn't want to tell Athos of the news but he never could keep important information from his friends. He's glad to see Athos was able to prioritise the situation. "Glad to hear it."

Athos smiled at him sadly, "I've learned my lesson. D'Artagnan's in this bed because of my hatred for her. I won't…"

"NO!" Porthos and Athos swung their heads to the cot, forgetting about their conversation. D'Artagnan was tossing from side to side, trying to escape from a fevered dream. "No!" The small towel fell off his brow as the tossing got more violent. Porthos picked it up and held it to his forehead, hoping the cool towel would help ease the nightmare.

"D'Artagnan…" Athos called, his hand cupping his cheek, as his thumb gently stroked it. He was hoping it would give D'Artagnan some comfort. "D'Artagnan, it's alright. You're safe." D'Artagnan opened his eyes. Athos smiled, "Hey." He said softly, but it was clear that D'Artagnan wasn't focusing on anything or anyone.

Suddenly, his eyes widened in anger, "Get away from me!" His arm swung weakly at Athos who caught it easily in his hands. "Leave me alone!" His struggles grew more violent as he tried to get away from them. Even though he was weak, the movements were still irritating his injuries. Porthos kept his hands on his left shoulder and upper leg to minimise the struggles.

"D'Artagnan!" Athos voiced boomed through the room, shocking Aramis awake. He shot up from his cot on the opposite side of the room, looking around for what had woken him. When he saw Athos and Porthos holding down D'Artagnan he got up from his bed and was over there in two strides.

"What…" Porthos put up a hand to stop him. D'Artagnan had stopped struggling and was looking at Athos. Aramis looked over at Athos and saw that he was speaking softly to the boy.

"You're safe. We'll protect you." Athos assured the boy, "We won't let anyone hurt you again."

Tears filled D'Artagnan's eyes, "Lies…it was all lies." He said as his eyes closed, a tear running down the side of his head. Athos wiped it away, then leaned back into his seat. Aramis turned away, his head hanging. Porthos buried his head in his hands. They were defeated.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: Un-betaed. I apologise in advance for the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. **

**Three days later…**

D'Artagnan winced as he pulled his shirt on. He was far from recovered. He could feel every stitch in his body with each movement he made, but ever since he had fully woken up he needed to leave this place. He couldn't stay here any longer. Athos, Aramis and Porthos were all there when he woke up and he knew he should be grateful for their vigilance, but only felt uncontained anger. He looked down at the pauldron on the cot. This was his dream, he tried to remember the pride he felt when the King asked him to kneel and commissioned him a Musketeer, but he couldn't bring back that feeling. He was hoping it could squash the anger, but the harder he tried the angrier he got. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The decision was made and he wasn't turning back now. D'Artagnan grabbed his bag and headed out the door.

Every Musketeer in the garrison turned and looked up at him as he descended the steps to the courtyard. Athos, Aramis and Porthos, who were sitting at the table at the bottom of the steps, stood as he reached the bottom. He didn't look at them as he passed. He didn't look at anyone. He didn't say a word. For the second time within two weeks, D'Artagnan left the Musketeers. The first time he was forced, this time it was his choice and this time…he didn't look back.

"We just going to let him leave?" Porthos asked.

"Do you think anything we say will make him change his mind?" Aramis asked him. He remembered the day D'Artagnan woke up and found the three of them asleep around his cot. His reaction was so violent, he pulled out most of his stitches. When his friends tried to stop him, he screamed and yelled like a man possessed. Aramis resorted to force-feeding him laudanum to make him sleep. He felt like the lowest of life-forms in Paris, as he held D'Artagnan's mouth closed, forcing him to swallow the liquid. "I'm sorry." He had said as he looked into the eyes of the man that hated them more than anyone or anything in the world. They didn't dare to be present when D'Artagnan was conscious since that day, fearing more harm than good would come to their friend if they remained. Aramis gave instructions for caring for D'Artagnan to other musketeers. D'Artagnan all but ignored anyone who came in the room, but at least he was not fighting them.

"We'll let him go for now." Athos told them, "He needs time to clear his mind and he can't do that here." Aramis got up and started heading out the gate. "Aramis, where are you going?"

"I'm following him." He said, as if his intentions should have been clear.

"I thought we just agreed…" Porthos looked confused.

"I didn't agree to anything. Yes, D'Artagnan needs time to think but his injuries are still raw. He's in no condition to be travelling." Aramis explained before continuing out the door. Porthos caught up to him on one side while Athos appeared on the other.

"He won't be happy if he finds us following him." Athos warned.

"He'll probably try to run us through with his sword." Porthos agreed.

"How about we don't get caught?" Aramis suggested.

They had followed D'Artagnon to Lupiac, Gascony, his home town. They saw how D'Artagnan had hitched a ride with a market tradesman, satisfying Aramis's concern over his injuries. They watched as he reached his farm. It seems the farm has been rebuilt since being burned. They watched as D'Artagnan stumbled into the arms of an old man. The man supported D'Artagnan as they entered the small farm house. Satisfied that D'Artagnan was safe, they left to return for Paris. They will be back another day.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: Un-betaed. I apologise in advance for the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. **

**Present day…**

D'Artagnan worked on ploughing the soil with the hoe, swinging it into the soil to loosen it. He was careful not to put too much pressure on his left arm. The town doctor had removed the stitches, his wounds were mending well. Aramis had done a good job. That was what the doctor had told him. D'Artagnan just smiled at the man before leaving. He tried to push aside anything that reminded him of the Musketeers. He had been trying to forget about Paris and everything that came with it. It was hard when he still had the scars all over his body that kept reminding him of that day. Even working under the hot sun he never removed his shirt. It was uncomfortable but it was better than feeling self-conscious.

"Master D'Artagnan!" D'Artagnan smiled at the title. He continued ploughing as he waited for the man to reach him, but he called over to him as he did. "John, how many times do I have to tell you? This farm belongs to you now. I work for you. Stop calling me Master."

"Master D'Artagnan!" D'Artagnan laughed and shook his head, stopping his work and turning to the man, "You have visitors." The smile on D'Artagnan's face faded when he saw the three men behind John. "They say they know you from your time in Paris." For a second, before the smile left, Athos saw the old D'Artagnan. The one he met in the garrison months ago.

"Thank you, John." He smiled at the man, though the smile never reached his eyes.

"You're welcome, Master D'Artagnan." D'Artagnan rolled his eyes, shaking his head fondly at the man who has been a part of his life since he was born.

"Nice man." Athos drew his attention back to them.

D'Artagnan glared at him before continuing with the ploughing, "Practically raised me." Aramis raised his eyebrows at the two men, _at least he's talking to us._

"How's the arm?" Aramis asked him.

"Fine." The answer came short and quick, the hoe came down harder than intended.

Aramis and Athos turned to Porthos, nudging their head, telling him to say something. Porthos rubbed his beard, trying to think of something to say. "How's…"

D'Artagnan stopped ploughing, and looked at them, clearly frustrated, "I'm fine. Cuts have healed, stitches are out, and pain's gone. Have I left anything out?" He resumed his work without waiting for an answer. It was clear D'Artagnan was still angry with them. Aramis winced as he D'Artagnan swung the hoe over and over again, each strike hard than that last. They jumped when the hoe hit something hard, "Aaah!" D'Artagnan dropped the hoe and grabbed his arm as the vibration caused from hitting the rock, sent pain running up and down his left arm. "Damn it!" He cursed as he held the arm to his chest, turning his back and walking away from the three men. "Why, in all of the King's land, are you here?!" D'Artagnan couldn't hold back the anger any more. He spun around, glaring at the three men. "This is my life! It was my life before I met any of you and it's my life now!" He was breathing heavily, his eyes burning with barely controlled rage.

"We just wanted to talk." Porthos said softly.

D'Artagnan squinted at him, hardly believing what he was hearing, "You want to talk. And what did you do when I wanted to talk?" He lifted his left arm, "Oh that's right. You broke my arm!"

Aramis grimaced at the guilt on Porthos's face. The man was a gentle giant, the fact he had broken D'Artagnan's arm has been weighing on him. He tried to take the attention off the man, "It's obvious it's bothering you. Let me take a look."

D'Artagnan looked at him incredulously, shaking his head, "No! Stay the hell away from me!" He threw his head back, looking up at the sky. He wanted to scream, but he just took a deep breath and looked at them again. This time he pleaded with them, "I beg you, just go back to Paris. Forget you ever met me. I'm sure that's not hard for you to do."

Finally, Athos spoke. He could tell D'Artagnan wasn't happy here. He was trying to convince himself that he could have a life on this farm but Athos knew better. "You once told me that being a Musketeer was your life's dream."

The anger was back in full fledge, "Don't you dare talk to me about my dreams when you're the one who ended it!" He walked right up to Athos, "All I've ever wanted was to be a Musketeer. That day was supposed to be the proudest day of my life," D'Artagnan could feel tears coming to his eyes. However, he refused to let them fall, "But no matter how hard I try, I can't remember that day. There was a feeling I thought I would always remember for the rest of my life, but I can't remember it!" He let go of his left arm and pushed his finger against Athos chest, "You took that away from me." D'Artagnan smirked at him, "I never thought I could hate anyone more than I hated LaBarge, but congratulations, you've taken his place at the top of my list!" Athos remembered the words. He had said them to D'Artagnan when he stumbled into the garrison bleeding. D'Artagnan's anguish returned again, "Why are you torturing me? You could've just forgotten about me and let me live out the rest of my life on this farm. I would've been fine. Why did you have come?"

"Because this isn't your life anymore, D'Artagnan. Your life is at the Musketeers' garrison in Paris." Athos answered him, "It's where you belong."

D'Artagnan shook his head at him in defeat, and bent up to pick up the hoe, "Not anymore." He turned his back on them and headed back to the house.

From the distance, John watched the four men in the fields. He knew who they were. He recognised the uniform. The Musketeers. Ever since D'Artagnan walked into the house, feverish and exhausted, he knew something had gone terribly wrong. It wasn't just his master's physical state. As the days went on D'Artagnan healed but the boy with the bright eyes and live-hard die-hard attitude was gone. John never had a son of his own, so D'Artagnan was the closest he will get to having one. It hurt him to see his boy hurting so much. He had tried to get D'Artagnan to talk about what happened but all he said was, "It wasn't for me." John was hoping these three men were here to take D'Artagnan back with them, to take him back to where he belonged, but he could tell by the boy's stride that the men had failed. John stood from his seat on the bale of hay and headed back into the small house. He was going to do something about this. Every night since D'Artagnan returned, he was woken up by nightmares. It's time to chase those nightmares away.

The farm house was very small, with only one bedroom. John didn't have much when the farm was burnt to the ground, but he had enough to rebuild the house. He didn't expect D'Artagnan to return, so he only built a small house. He wanted D'Artagnan to take the room when he came home but D'Artagnan refused. "This is your farm now. You've rebuilt it to what it is now. Tomorrow, I will sign the land over to you." John didn't feel right to take the farm but D'Artagnan was doing it, with or without his blessing anyway. He was a good boy. He always was a good boy.

John pulled out a box from under his bed. He had managed to save some possessions before the fire destroyed the house. He opened it and pulled out an item, smiling at it. It was time D'Artagnan was reminded of his and his father's aspirations. He exited his room and quickly ran back outside to meet D'Artagnan and his friends.

D'Artagnan's chest was heaving with anger when he reached the fence around the home. He saw John waiting for him and quickly put on a smile. He didn't want to worry the old man. "I'm going to go wash up."

"Of course, Master D'Artagnan." John smiled at him as he passed, then waited for him to disappear into the house before turning to the three men who were following behind him. "Will you be staying for supper?"

Aramis looked at his friends, unsure of what to say. "We…"

"Silly me, of course you are. It's almost dusk, you can't be thinking of travelling back to Paris now. It'll be dark soon. You can stay here the night. Any friend of Master D'Artagnan can stay as long as they want." John rambled on at them. "You can sleep in the barn if you don't mind. It's not used for much except storage."

Athos smiled at him but shook his head, "I don't think that's a…"

"It's settled then." John turned around as if Athos had not even spoken. "I will set the table. There is a trough where you can wash up at the front of the house."

The three men looked at each other confused. Porthos twirled his finger around at his temple, asking silently if the man was a little coo coo. Athos and Aramis just shrugged. "What do we do?" Aramis asked.

Porthos just shrugged, "It's rude to turn down an invitation." They all looked at the house wearily before braving what was to follow.

They entered the house from the back entrance at the same time D'Artagnan came through the front, after washing up. He was wiping his neck and hands when he saw the three men in his house. D'Artagnan clenched his jaw, "Get out of my house." He said in a low growl.

The three men sighed and were about to do as they were told but John spoke first. "Nonsense. They're staying for supper." He was setting up the dining table, "then they will be staying the night."

D'Artagnan looked at him in disbelief, "No, they are not."

John looked at him innocently, "But Master D'Artagnan, you did say this is my house now. Did you not?" D'Artagnan opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out, "And that means I can invite whomever I want to stay for supper."

D'Artagnan closed his mouth and glared at the three men standing around the dining table. "Fine, have your supper and then leave."

Athos nodded, "Of course." Then turned to John, "Thank you for your hospitality, Monsieur…"

"John, just call me John." John told them, then looked at the men still standing, "Please sit down." They did with Athos taking a seat opposite D'Artagnan, Aramis sat next to Athos and Porthos sat at the end of the table. "I've lived here since I was ten. This farm has been a part of this family for generations, but I truly became a part of the family when Master D'Artagnan's mother passed away. Master D'Artagnan was only a few months old and I became his primary carer." John placed bread and stew on the centre of the table and started scooping bowls to hand around. "He looks like his mother." D'Artagnan smiled uncomfortably at the man as he spoke of him fondly. He didn't want to talk about his life story in front of these men. "But he's definitely his father's son. Strong, stubborn, smart but above all else, loyal." D'Artagnan could feel the change in atmosphere at the last word. John sat down after handing out all the bowls. "Eat and we can talk more about Master D'Artagnan's younger days after."

D'Artagnan sighed, "I would rather not." He mumbled as he dipped the bread into the soup.

They finished quickly and the three men wiped their mouths and stood. "The food was wonderful, but we really should be returning to Paris." Athos told John, knowing full well how much their presence was hurting D'Artagnan right now. The young man was so stressed he was almost trembling. "Wait!" John stood up with them and Athos saw D'Artagnan close his eyes and take a deep breath, barely containing his feelings. "I have one more thing to show you and then you can leave." John disappeared into his room. The three men stood in silence, watching the young man sitting with his elbows on the table and forehead against his clasped hands. They were wondering if they should just leave, when John returned with an item wrapped inside a baby blanket. D'Artagnan looked up at him when John removed his bowl and laid the item in front of him. His eyes widened at the brown quilt before he looked up at the old man. "How?"

John smiled at him, "I managed to save a few items before the fire destroyed everything." D'Artagnan looked back down at the package and ran his hand over the quilt. "Open it up." John urged him.

D'Artagnan carefully pulled open the quilt and suddenly an overwhelming pressure in his chest threatened to suffocate him as the object was reveal. D'Artagnan stood abruptly, knocking over the wooden chair he was sitting on and ran out the back door. Athos was about to run after him when John grabbed his arm and handed him the item, "Take this with you and ask him to tell you its story." Athos looked at it and nodded. Aramis and Porthos stayed in the house. Athos and D'Artagnan needed this time to talk.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: Un-betaed. I apologise in advance for the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. **

D'Artagnan was sitting on a bale of hay watching the sun set over the fields. Beautiful as it was, D'Artagnan couldn't appreciate it. His mind was somewhere in the past. D'Artagnan had been trying his hardest to control his emotions throughout supper but he couldn't when he revealed the small sword his father had whittled for him. He had to get out of the house before he broke down in front of the others. He didn't notice someone coming up behind him until Athos sat down on the bale of hay next to him, holding the item John had given him. "The craftsmenship on this is intricate. Every detail is perfect. My guess would be it was made for a very small boy." It was a wooden sword, wielded by the Musketeers. It was a perfect replica, only its size was different, only half the size.

D'Artagnan turned away and wiped his tears before he gently took it from Athos. His anger, temporarily set aside. "My father made it for me for my fifth birthday after I told him I wanted to be a Musketeer when I grew up." D'Artagnan smiled, "My father didn't know this at the time, but I was playing in the woods with my friends that day. We were having sword fights with sticks and we didn't realise the time, until the sun was going down. We started running home when I heard a noise behind us. I turned around and saw the wolf." D'Artagnan smiled, "I was so scared, I couldn't move. My friends kept running. I can still see its teeth when it launched at me, then suddenly an arm wrapped around me and when I opened my eyes the wolf was dead." D'Artagnan looked at Athos. "It was a musketeer who saved me. I recognised the pauldron." Athos nodded. He knew the story but he let D'Artagnan continue. "I ran home and started rattling on about how much I wanted to be a Musketeer." He laughed as he remembered the amused looks on his father's and John's faces, "I'm not sure if they took me seriously that day, but every day since then I would practice sword fighting. So on my fifth birthday, he gave me this." D'Artagnan looked down at the small wooden sword in his hand, he turned it, revealing the words on the other side, delicately engraved into the blade of the sword, _"My little Musketeer." _Tears ran down his face as he ran his fingers over the words. This sword was his most precious possession and the one thing left of his father. "It wasn't long before my dream became my father's as well. Each day we would work in the fields and every evening we would practice swordsmanship." D'Artagnan wiped away his tears, "He never lived to see me become a Musketeer but I guess that was a blessing in disguise, because he didn't have to see how short-lived that dream was either." And just like that, the anger started to return. "You should go." D'Artagnan said as he stood up, sniffling a little from emotional trip into the past.

Athos stood, "It doesn't have to be short-lived."

D'Artagnan shook his head, "It's already ended, Athos."

"Do you remember the man who saved you in the woods?" Athos asked him, out of the blue.

D'Artagnan frowned, confused, "No, it was a long time ago, but what does it matter?"

"My first job as a Musketeer was to deliver a message to a man just beyond this town and I was given an urgent message to return to my captain. It was important I got back before dawn, so I cut through the woods just over there." Athos pointed at the woods on the other side of the fields. "That's when I saw a little boy, standing so still. I thought he was lost until I saw what he was looking at. A wolf. I didn't have time to think. I grabbed the boy around the waist and turned him to the side, at the same time, I drew my sword and ran the wolf through."

D'Artagnan's eyes narrow at the man in front of him, "What are you telling me?"

Athos gave him a knowing smile, "You left out a part of that story." D'Artagnan wanted to deny what Athos was telling him. It wasn't possible. "The boy was shaking so badly, I thought he was going into shock. I was worried the dead wolf would scare him even more, so I picked him up and moved further down the track. I sat there for quite a while before the boy calmed down. When he finally looked at me, I told him the wolf was dead and he was safe, so he could stop crying. He told me he wasn't crying because he was scared, he was crying because he wasn't brave." Tears started running down D'Artagnan's cheeks as Athos told his story. "I told him, 'Men who are never afraid can never be brave…"

"And brave men are the ones who act despite being scared." D'Artagnan's voice was shaking, "That was you."

"That was me." Athos confirmed, "When I set you on your feet that night to head home, you turned to me and told me with confidence…"

"I will be brave. I'm going to be a Musketeer when I grow up. Just like you." D'Artagnan wiped at his tears, still finding it hard to believe this man was the same man he met so many years ago.

"I should've recognised you. I saw your eyes that night, it had the same fire in it as the day you came to call me out for a duel." Athos smiled, "I should've known that kid would turn up at the garrison one day."

"It was you who started me on this dream of being a Musketeer." The irony didn't escape D'Artagnan.

"But it was your determination that got you there." Athos was looking at D'Artagnan in admiration, "I've never met a five year old with such a strong will."

"You were different back then." D'Artagnan told him, "You weren't so sad."

Athos smirked, "I hadn't met Milady back then." Milady De Winter. Why was she always at the centre of misery? D'Artagnan shook himself of the past. It didn't matter that Athos was that musketeer back then, it doesn't change what's happened in the past month. As if reading his mind, Athos answered him, "You told me you couldn't remember how you felt the day you were made a Musketeer. I want to remind you of that feeling and I'm quite sure that is why John gave you that." Athos nodded at the wooden sword in his hand.

"Why bother? So what if I remember all this. I can't trust you. Every time I think I can forgive you, all the pain of what I went through in that dungeon and all the pain I felt when you turned me over to the Cardinal comes back. I can't go through…" D'Artagnan's voice faded off. He realised something. The problem wasn't with Athos or the others, it was with him. He was too scared to trust them again. It hurt too much when they betrayed him, he couldn't go through it again. _Men who are never afraid can never be brave. Brave men are the ones who act despite being scared. _"I can't let my fears stop me from living my life." He whispered to himself. Athos tilted his head, trying to read D'Artagnan's expression. D'Artagnan was in conflict with himself. He wanted to be brave, to fight through this, but Athos's voice the day the Cardinal was arrested kept coming to his mind, _"Take him. He's not one of us." _He wanted to move on, but his arm started throbbing as if to remind him of the consequences of trusting someone unconditionally. D'Artagnan absently rubbed his arm as his mind fought between Athos's words when he was five and his words from a couple of weeks ago.

Athos could see that the boy was torn. He wanted to help him, he had to help him. "Talk to me, D'Artagnan."

D'Artagnan looked at the man he's been trying to forget for the past couple of weeks, but he's starting to realise that he was just avoiding his problems. Maybe it was time to face them. "I trusted you with my life." Athos nodded. "I don't know if I still can."

Athos sighed, finally seeing where the issue laid. D'Artagnan was afraid to trust. "Trust yourself." He advised. "You have good instincts, D'Artagnan. What are they telling you now?" Athos asked him, praying that he really was getting through to the boy.

D'Artagnan closed his eyes and took a breath. Trust his instincts. He remembered back to the day Athos found him in the woods, the feeling of security the man gave him. He thought back to the day they met. How, even though this man was accused of killing his father, he still felt some kind of connection to him. He then thought back to the day he became a Musketeer. He felt Athos fit the pauldron over his shoulder. The feeling he had was more than just pride for becoming a Musketeer, it was feeling Athos's pride as well as Aramis's and Porthos's. It suddenly hit him that he remembered. The feeling finally came back to him.

Athos smiled when he saw a smile form on D'Artagnan's face. He turned his body a little when he heard footsteps around him. Obviously Aramis and Porthos couldn't wait in the house any longer. He put a finger to his lips, telling them to be quiet. He didn't want D'Artagnan's thoughts disrupted. He turned back to D'Artagnan and waited.

D'Artagnan slowly opened his eyes. "I thought my father would be there the day I earned my commission." Athos nodded. "My dream of becoming a Musketeer never wavered but I always believed the day it happened there would be a sense of emptiness because my father would not be there to see it." The men listened patiently as D'Artagnan revealed himself. "The day I earned my commission the empty feeling wasn't there." D'Artagnan looked at each of them, "It wasn't there because my family was with me." Athos, Aramis and Porthos gave him a small smile and waited for him to say the words they needed to hear. "You're my family." He closed his eyes as he said the next words, "I can trust you." He whispered as if trying the words out on his lips. He smiled when he realised he believed it. "I trust you." He said louder, looking directly at Athos, then looked at the two men next to him, "I trust all of you."

Athos grinned in relief and nodded at the boy. He walked up to him and pulled D'Artagnan into his arms. "Thank you!" He closed his eyes and turned his face up to the heavens, "Thank you." He didn't know how badly he needed D'Artagnan's forgiveness. Aramis and Porthos came up to them on each side and wrapped their arms around the two of them. A weight was lifted off their shoulders. Finally they could put everything behind them and get back to their normal lives. Athos finally let D'Artagnan go, but he still held him by the shoulders. Even though D'Artagnan had forgiven them, he still needed to say it and D'Artagnan needed to hear it. "We are sorry."

"We should've believed in you." Aramis added.

"I'm really sorry about the arm."

D'Artagnan burst out laughing at that. He looked at Porthos and shook his head. "You didn't mean to break it. It's the one thing I was never angry about…well not specifically anyway. I just used it on you because I knew how guilty you felt about it." He kept grinning at his friend, "I'm sorry." Porthos raised his eyebrows in shock at the apology, then just grinned and ruffled D'Artagnan's hair affectionately.

Aramis looked down at the arm, "Actually, now that we're friends again, can I…"

"No!" D'Artagnan stepped back, "It's just aching. I'm fine."

Aramis sighed, "Fine." He'll let it slide for now. He had a plan anyway. He threw his arm over D'Artagnan's shoulder. "We should go inside. Your servant sent us out here to check on you."

D'Artagnan chuckled as they headed towards the house, "John's not my servant. He owns the farm now. If anything, I work for him."

"Yet he calls you Master D'Artagnan." Aramis pointed out.

"I've told him a hundred times to drop the 'Master', but he just ignores me." D'Artagnan said as they walked back to the house.

John was at the door waiting for them. "About time!" He complained. "I made some tea for all of you."

D'Artagnan frowned, "Tea?"

"Yes, it's getting cold and it's getting late. Tea will help everyone relax and have a good night's rest." D'Artagnan sat down at the table. Aramis sat down next to D'Artagnan, opposite Athos while Porthos and John sat at either end. John poured them each a cup of tea.

Athos picked it up, looking at it distastefully. "You wouldn't have wine by any chance?" He jumped when Aramis kicked him under the table. He bit his tongue to stop himself from saying some choice words to his friend.

"Tea's good for you." Aramis said through a fake smile. Athos looked at him, suspiciously. "Isn't that right, Porthos?"

Porthos picked up his cup, "Right. Exactly, tea, my favourite." Taking a mouthful.

"Porthos! It's…" D'Artagnan, Aramis and Athos lifted their arms up to protect themselves from the spray of tea that came their way, "hot." D'Artagnan finished, laughing at Porthos fanning his tongue with his hands. Athos and Aramis were grinning but they weren't laughing at Porthos, they were enjoying hearing D'Artagnan's laughter amongst them again.

"What wrong with you two, anyway?" D'Artagnan asked as he blew at his tea. "You're acting weird."

Aramis gave him tight smile, "Nothing."

D'Artagnan just gave up, "If you say so." He turned to John as he took a sip of the tea, "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me whatever you wish, Master D'Artagnan."

D'Artagnan put down his cup and picked up his wooden sword, "Out of everything in the house, why did you save my blanket and this?"

John smiled fondly at the sword and took it into his own hands, "I've known your father, almost his entire life. I know him better than anyone. There were two moments in his life that made him proud." He put a hand to D'Artagnan's cheek, smiling proudly, "One was when you were born." D'Artagnan smiled at him. John turned back to the sword, "the second time was when you came running into the house, declaring you wanted to be a Musketeer." Aramis and Porthos smiled at that.

"How old were you?" Porthos asked. D'Artagnan looked a little embarrassed as he held up five fingers. "That's young."

"Master D'Artagnan has always been strong willed. When he decided on something he would do it even if it killed him. So your father knew when you told him you wanted to be a Musketeer that you would become one." D'Artagnan picked up the cup of tea with both his hands and brought it to his lip, trying to ignore all the eyes on him. "Your father would be so proud of you." D'Artagnan gave him a small smile behind the cup before taking another mouthful of the tea.

"Thank you, John." D'Artagnan put the empty cup down and took back the wooden sword, "I thought I had lost it."

"I would've kept it, but you seemed to need reminding of why you wanted to become a Musketeer."

"You were right." D'Artagnan frowned as his vision blurred a little, "as always." His eyes grew heavy.

"D'Artagnan, are you feeling well?" Athos asked, as he watched D'Artagnan struggle to stay awake. He looked at Aramis who just smiled at him innocently.

D'Artagnan shook his head hard, trying to clear the fog, "I'm really tire…" His eyes closed, falling backwards, but Aramis was ready, catching him by the shoulders and leaning him forward onto the table.

"D'Artagnan!" Athos jumped up from his seat.

Porthos put a hand on Athos shoulder to calm him, "He's fine. Aramis drugged him."

"You what?!"

"He wouldn't let me check his wounds. This was all I could think of. I asked John to put a little extra in his tea." Aramis stood up and pushed his chair back, "Clear the table and help me get him on it."

Athos shook his head, "He's going to kill you when he wakes up."

"Not if you tell him I'm the one who drugged him." John said as he cleared the table. "He won't do anything to me. I was the one who did it after all." He left the boys to do what they needed to do, taking the small sword with him.

Aramis smiled at the retreating man, "Thank you, John." Then looked at Athos, "See! Nothing to worry about." Athos just rolled his eyes and walked to the other side of the table to help get D'Artagnan onto it.

"Move out of the way, both of you." Porthos stood and walked up to D'Artagnan. He took him by the shoulder and leaned him back, one arm supported him around the shoulder while the other arm went under the knees. Porthos easily lifted the boy up and sat him on the table, still supporting him behind the shoulders. Aramis moved behind D'Artagnan.

"Help me get his shirt off." Athos and Aramis worked quietly as they negotiated the shirt off the Gascon. Aramis check his back wounds first. The lashes were still quite raw, but they were healing. The cut was healing nicely. "You can lay him down now." Porthos lowered D'Artagnan to the table.

Athos stood at the head of the table. He brushed the boy's hair back. "How is he?" Athos asked. The wounds still looked bad to him. He wanted to dig up the Cardinal's body and bury him again.

"They tortured him, Athos. The wounds will take a while to heal." Athos sighed at the multiple wounds. "My main concern is he hasn't been resting properly since he left the garrison. Hopefully after today he'll be able to heal." Athos took out a sling from the medicine bag. "And hopefully he uses this one." They got D'Artagnan redressed before Aramis put his arm into the sling. "Porthos, get him into the cot."

Porthos smiled, "No problem. The kid's so light the wind could blow him away." He easily picked the boy up and carried over to the small cot in the corner of the room. He tucked the blanket around his friend before standing up and stretching. "I don't know about you boys, but I am done for the night. I'm going to take up John's offer and sleep in the barn."

"Aramis, why don't you go as well? I'll sleep here and watch over him."

Aramis nodded, he was about to leave when curiosity got the better of him. "What did you say to him?" Athos rose his eyebrows at him, "To get him to come back."

Athos smiled at the boy, "Turns out our paths crossed before he tried to kill me."

"When?"

Athos grinned, "When he was five."

"He..." Aramis smiled, sceptically, then shook his head, "No..." Athos just shrugged at him, "You're serious."

"Deadly."

Aramis shook his head, laughing as he headed to the barn, "What are the chances?"

Athos sat against the wall next to D'Artagnan's cot. He's slept in less comfortable positions before. He'll be watching over his young friend this night. Athos crossed his legs at the ankles and leaned his head back, closing him eyes. The corners of his mouth curled up.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.**

**Warning: Un-betaed. I apologise in advance for the bad grammar and spelling mistakes. **

The late morning sun shone through the house. D'Artagnan groaned as he woke to the sun's glare in his eyes. His right hand came up to block out the bright light. He squinted at the light through his fingers. He was confused. D'Artagnan couldn't remember the last time he had slept in this late. He pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of cot when he noticed something else. He couldn't move his left arm. Looking down he saw it was in a sling. He frowned as he did the Math, sleeping in, feeling groggy, not remembering how he got into bed and the sling...

"D'Artagnan, you're awake." D'Artagnan looked up to see Athos, smiling down at him. "How are you feeling?"

D'Artagnan narrowed his eyes at him and gave him a tight smile, "Where is Aramis?" He asked.

Athos's smile was replaced with concern, "Is something wrong? He's out in the fields with Porthos. I can go fetch him."

"He drugged me." D'Artagnan glared at him.

Athos winced, "Ah...yes...about that..."

"Actually, I'm the one who drugged you, Master D'Artagnan." John announced as he walked into the house.

D'Artagnan turned to him and smiled, "You, John?

"Yes. I've been wanting to do it since you got back. You're as stubborn as your father. You barely had a good night's rest for weeks now. So I drugged you." John busied himself with preparing lunch.

D'Artagnan stood up, after putting on his shoes and turned to Athos, giving him a grin. Athos knew that grin, it meant he wasn't going to let this go. Athos just shrugged, this was Aramis's own doing. "What drug did you use, John?" D'Artagnan asked walking up to the man.

"Hmmm?" John kept cooking.

"How much did you use? Because I was asleep for a very long time." D'Artagnan tried to catch the man's eyes, but he turned this way and that, avoiding his boy. "Where did you come by it?"

"Well...I...well..."

D'Artagnan laughed, letting the man off, "It's okay, John. It was very noble of you to take the blame."

John turned to the boy, "You needed it." D'Artagnan just gave him a small smile, patting him on the shoulder and he passed him. Athos dipped his head at the man before following D'Artagnan out the door.

"You know it was for your own good." Athos tried to calm the boy before he reached Aramis. D'Artagnan turned around, walking backwards and just smiled at him, before turning back again. "You needed rest." Athos tried again.

"Aramis!" D'Artagnan called as he neared his friend. Athos sighed, D'Artagnan was a stubborn young man.

Aramis looked up from ploughing the soil. He dropped the hoe when he saw D'Artagnan walking up to him. Putting his hands up to ward him off, he started explaining, "Now, D'Artagnan, see reason..." Porthos was going to step in but decided not to take on D'Artagnan's wrath. "You were in pain." Aramis kept walking backwards, "I just needed to check..." He was shocked when D'Artagnan threw his good arm around him, giving him a one armed embrace. He looked at the others, confused. They just shrugged, just as confused.

"I missed you." D'Artagnan told him. Aramis got over his shock and smiled at the quiet words, returning the embrace. Then D'Artagnan pushed himself back, "But you try that again and I'll kill you." He said it was with a deadly smile, before heading back to the house.

Aramis let out a long breath, "I'm so glad he's on our side." Porthos handed him his flask. Aramis accepted it and took a long swig. "Thank you."

**The next day...**

John smiled as D'Artagnan packed his bags, ready to head back to the Paris with his new family. He walked up to the boy and held out the small wooden sword. "Take this." D'Artagnan stopped packing and looked down at the sword, "Whenever your faith in the King's Musketeer is ever in question, take it out and remember your dream."

D'Artagnan took it and pulled the man into his arms, hugging him as tight and as long as he could. "I'll take it out and remember the words of a very wise man. A man who is as much my father as Bertran de Baatz D'Artagnan."

"Oh my son!" John cried, hugging his boy with everything he had, "No father could be prouder."

D'Artagnan pulled back and wiped his tears when the three Musketeers entered the house. Aramis looked at the two men, "Apologies, we were intruding..." He and the others were about to head back out the door when John stopped them.

"No, you were not. We were saying our good byes." John told them, sniffling.

D'Artagnan turned back to his cot and carefully placed the wooden sword into his bag, before fastening it and turning around. "I'm ready."

Aramis turned to Athos and Porthos, smiling. "Actually, you're not quite ready."

D'Artagnan looked around confused, "I have everything." He turned back and froze at the pauldron in Athos's hands. "You brought it with you?"

"Of course."

"How did you know I would return with you?" D'Artagnan asked.

"We hoped." Porthos answered for them.

"May I?" Athos held up the pauldron. D'Artagnan smiled, then nodded. Athos proudly fitted the pauldron onto D'Artagnan's right shoulder. The same feeling he felt the day the King commissioned him came over him, but this time theirs is the addition of John's fatherly pride.

"Your father would have been so proud."

D'Artagnan turned to him, "I know, because I can see it in your eyes."

John nodded, "You have a family and a new home in Paris. Go."

**Musketeer's Garrison**

That night they arrived back at the garrison, he was met by his colleagues. Drinks were had and the musketeers were whole again. Their youngest and newest member were back within their ranks. Treville had apologised to him as well, which shocked him. "Nothing so unjust will occur within these walls again." He had assured him. D'Artagnan smiled and nodded, accepting the apology and grateful for the assurance.

Athos returned to his room at the garrison once the night ended. It was a good night. He spent most of it drinking and watching D'Artagnan laugh amongst the other musketeers. It was a good to have him back. There would have been an empty space within these walls if D'Artagnan could not forgive them. An empty space made by him because of his own anger and fear of trust. He had been seeking D'Artagnan's forgiveness for weeks now, but now that he has it, he realise it was not only D'Artagnan's forgiveness he needed. It was his own. But how can he forgive himself for the way he had acted. How could he trust himself to not do it again, to not let his past hurt his friends...his family. He was deep in his thoughts when there was a knock at his door. He was surprised to see D'Artagnan on the other side. "You know we've got early patrol tomorrow."

D'Artagnan stood there with both hands behind his back, smiling and nodding. "I know. Can I come in?"

Athos stepped aside and gestured for him to enter, closing the door as he did. D'Artagnan turned to face him, not saying anything at first. "Did you need something?" Athos asked him, a little concerned that the ride back had taken a toll on him. "I can ask the Captain to give you another day's rest, if you need it."

D'Artagnan chuckled and shook his head, "You worry too much." He looked down at his feet, a little uncomfortable before he pulled out an item from behind his back. Athos raised his eyebrows at the small wooden sword. "John gave this to me this morning. He said to take it out if I ever lost faith in the Musketeers again."

Athos nodded, "He's a wise man." He wasn't sure why D'Artagnan was telling him this now.

"I want you to have it." D'Artagnan said, a little hesitantly as he didn't know how the man would react.

Athos looked at it in shock, then slowly shook his head, "I can't...It means too much to you."

"It does." D'Artagnan agreed, "But I saw something tonight."

"What's that?"

"You've been watching me all night." D'Artagnan looked at him, to see what reaction he would get, but Athos avoided him.

"I'm just glad you are back." Athos tried to explain.

D'Artagnan shook his head, "I can see the guilt written all over your face. You haven't forgiven yourself for all that has happened."

Athos admired at how perceptive D'Artagnan was, but was also a little annoyed that he was found out. "Is that so difficult to believe considering what I did?"

"No, it's not, which is why I want you to have this." D'Artagnan walked up to him and placed the precious sword in Athos's hands, "I don't need it anymore. After everything that has happened I know I will never stray from my path as a Musketeer again. This is my home and you, Porthos and Aramis are my family." Athos's listened to the young man's words and marvelled at the faith and trust he so unconditionally gave out. "Keep it as a reminder of my trust in you." He placed his hands on Athos's shoulders, "I believe in you. You should too." He gave Athos's shoulders a squeezed and smiled before leaving, "I'll see you in the morning for patrol."

Athos couldn't take his eyes off the small sword in his hand. He smiled as a weight seemed to lift off his shoulders. "D'Artagnan!" He called before D'Artagnan closed the door. The young man paused. "Thank you." D'Artagnan smiled and nodded before closing the door. If D'Artagnan put so much faith in him, who was he to disappoint the boy. He placed the present on the mantle above the small fire place and smiled, before turning in for the night. He will forever treasure the small sword. It was representative a father's pride, a boy's dream and a young man's trust.

The END!


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